


The Guilty Shall Rise; The Innocent Shall Sit Down.  And That Leaves Spock Still Standing.

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Star Trek Incandescent Hearts [57]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Bickering, Crushes, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Pining Spock (Star Trek), Romantic Fluff, Secret Crush, Self-Reprimands, Unrequited Crush, dereliction of duty, gentle humor, unrest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26760676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: Spock is not having a good day because he is filled with guilt and self-doubt.  So that means that McCoy and Kirk will not be having a good day, either, nor the whole Bridge crew for that matter. Because Spock's odd behavior is affecting everyone.Spock reprimands himself when he believes that he is neglecting his duties by dwelling on a secret love interest. Dr. McCoy thinks that Spock is ailing, but cannot get Spock to talk. Kirk just wants to get the Bridge back to normal, but that doesn't seem possible with Spock mooning around on it the way he is.
Relationships: Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Series: Star Trek Incandescent Hearts [57]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/636956
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	The Guilty Shall Rise; The Innocent Shall Sit Down.  And That Leaves Spock Still Standing.

He was guilty of insubordination. Surely, it was insubordination!

But, no, it couldn't be! Not insubordination! He had not willfully disobeyed an order. He had not planned a mutiny and had not attempted to carry it out. He had not heedlessly struck down a non-com, nor had he raised a hand against a fellow officer.

All he had done was to fall in love with one.

Although he supposed if he was honest about the matter and used one of the quaint idioms that Earthlings loved to scatter about as easily as they shed dead skin cells, he would say that he had a crush on someone. Although that was not what he was wanting to do, either. He did not wish to flatten someone down until that person had a thickness of only about one inch. What good would a person in that shape do for him? He wanted to love that person, preferably in the condition he had always known the guy: cute and sassy and mouthy as hell. But warm and personable and charming as hell, too. And suddenly so dear to his aching heart.

Oh, Spock! You've got it bad! And that ain't good! Oh, Mr. Ellington and Mr. Goodman! How right you gentlemen were!

He couldn't say how it had begun. He had simply turned one day to answer a remark made by the guy, had meant to correct the error of the other guy's thinking, and instead had suddenly just KNOWN! Had known down in his soul that something more was intended for the two of them than their usual bickering. Had known with the wisdom drawn from both sides of his mixed heritage that something good was meant to exist between them. Had known with every fiber in his whole aching body that he wished the guy would just shut up and kiss him already! Because he yearned suddenly to know what the feel of the other guy's luscious mouth would be like up against his! He had a feeling it would taste of Heaven!

And fuel desires that would surely land the both of them in Hell!

His hopeful heart quickened with the possibilities of it all!

But, alas, it was not meant to be! For all that the other guy wanted to do with those desirable lips of his was to form words in ridicule of Spock. So Spock and his bleeding heart might as well go away and suffer in silence, because that was all he was going to get to do today. If only the other guy knew! If only! If only! Could he not see it on Spock's yearning face?! Could he not tell that something momentous had just happened besides a pause in an argument?! Could he not realize that Spock wanted to do more than just fight with him?!

Spock must have looked stricken instead of romantic, though, because the guy did shut up. For exactly two point one seconds. And then he was talking again. No, demanding. No, screaming! And then groping! Spock had wanted to be touched! But not groped! Not like this! Not in front of the whole Alpha shift on the Bridge! Not like a common whore at a peepshow! He felt like a chicken being checked for plumpness out in the henyard! He must retreat! But, no, he could not do that! He must let Dr. McCoy know what was really happening to him! But how?! How?!

Then he did retreat, if it could be called that. For all of the conflicting and sudden feelings were too great for him, and he succumbed to emotional overload. He fell victim to all of that sensation as surely as if he had been the frailest Southern belle with the vapors. Some who were present that day and observed the whole intrigue might say he swooned, others might say he fainted. However it was stated, Spock went suddenly limp and headed for the floor as if it had been his intention all along to prove that the gravitational system in the Enterprise was in fine working order.

McCoy uttered one of his favorite expletives, one that he probably shouldn't be uttering while on duty or in mixed company, but at least he did stop groping Spock. Instead, he just grabbed. Grabbed and held on roughly and tightly to whatever part of that green body that he could grasp. And that was somehow worse. Because that only added to the sensory overload that Spock was already receiving, but he did manage to regain his senses enough to understand what was going on.

McCoy's eyes were wild with concern. He was losing a patient right here on the Bridge! Right in front of everybody! And he didn't know why! "Spock! What the hell?! Are you having some sort of attack?! Answer me, damn it! Before I get ten red shirts in here to wrestle you to the ground and drag your sorry ass to sickbay where it belongs if you're gonna be acting this way!" He shook Spock for extra measure. "Stop scaring the hell outa us! What's wrong with you?!"

"I am alright, Doctor," Spock managed to gulp out. But that answer apparently didn't please McCoy because his hands were all over Spock again, but not lovingly. Then Spock finally got him to stop doing even that with a question which Spock thought was highly logical and to the point. "How can they wrestle me to the ground if we are in a starship? There is no 'ground' on a starship, only floor."

"You're okay," McCoy snorted and shoved him aside.

The hands were gone! Those magical hands!

"But, Doctor--" Spock started with a pleading face. He had to have those hands back! He could not allow McCoy to leave!

"Now, what?" McCoy demanded. "Decide that you're in need of medical aid after all?"

"I am humbly sorry that I interfered with your day, Doctor."

"What the hell does that mean?" McCoy asked suspiciously. What new tactic was this? First scare the hell out of him and then act as if he couldn't be bothered. As if Spock was not a patient, colleague, and friend of his! But if the Vulcan kept acting so unpredictable and downright crazy, the friend part might be up for grabs. And as for being his patient, Spock might have to be passed on to specialists to determine the cause behind this sudden change of character in him.

Meanwhile, Spock was acting as if he was desperately trying to make amends for something that had not as yet been clearly stated. "I did not intend to quarrel with you," he explained anxiously.

"We were discussing, not quarreling. There's a difference."

Spock did not understand. The doctor always seemed to resent it when they disagreed on the interpretation of a topic. Almost any topic, for that matter. And now McCoy was defending their right to rip a subject apart and inspect its innards as if they were working for some sort of governmental agency in charge of that type of work?!! It was all so confusing!

"I also wish to apologize for startling you a moment ago and causing you to be concerned about my wellbeing."

"No problem, Spock. That's my job. If you are ill and needing help...." McCoy let his voice trail off, then he frowned and gave Spock a cautious, jaded look. "You are ill... Aren't you?"

"No, I--"

"Will you make up your mind?! Either in or out!"

"Either in or out of what?" Spock asked, truly puzzled. When had doorways and the use of them entered into the discussion?

"I give up!" McCoy announced as he headed for the turbo lift. "Send him down to sickbay if you can figure out what's wrong with him," he shot back at Kirk. "Otherwise, he's all yours! And good luck with that! You're gonna need it!"

The turbo lift door slid shut on him.

Spock was left devastated.

Gone! Gone! Just like that, gone! Spock did not know where to turn next, so he just stared in horror at the turbo lift as if it had eaten McCoy in one gulp instead of doing its usual task of transporting him.

The Bridge settled into an awkward silence which lasted exactly three point one minutes by Spock's calculations which he did automatically because his consciousness was still trying to adjust to the loss of McCoy.

"Well, Commander, are you planning on going back to your post anytime soon?" Kirk finally asked. He didn't seem too happy with Spock's present circumstances, Spock could tell.

Spock tried to focus his attention on the question he'd been asked. "Captain?"

"You are not watching your instruments, Mr. Spock, only the turbo lift door. And unless armed and pissed-off Romulans are due to come roaring through it in the immediate and foreseeable future, I suggest you return to your assigned post."

"Yes, Captain," Spock mumbled, turning away and stumbling toward his work station with all sorts of worries whirling through his mind. Now he had new ones to add.

Insubordination! Dereliction of duty! Not to mention humiliation! He would be placed on report, for sure! And maybe even be subjected to a medical exam and a psychological evaluation! Could this day get any worse for him?! He must get back to his post and perform well, or else his whole career and reputation would be in jeopardy!

Then he stopped short. Why were Sulu and Chekov staring up at him in confusion from just under his left elbow as if he was somehow out of place? Why were they not at their stations? Was his insubordination and dereliction of duty contagious?! Had he somehow contaminated the whole Bridge with his unrest?!

"Mr. Spock." Kirk sounded over-patient behind him and there seemed to be an edge to his voice. "Would you be so kind as to describe to me that nebula that is just becoming visible on the bottom of the forward viewing screen?"

Spock looked down at the formation that was just level with his bellybutton and extraordinarily close to him. Apparently he was not at his station as he thought, but was somehow in the front part of the Bridge. That would also explain Sulu and Chekov's presence where they were not meant to be. Apparently they were exactly where they were supposed to be, and Spock wasn't. He needed to correct his location, but for some reason seemed rooted to the spot while Sulu and Chekov looked on with horror.

And then he knew! He could not move, because he must answer his captain first! "The nebula in question appears to be a supernova remnant, Captain. Nothing seems to be extraordinary about it, but I will make a note of our sighting of it in the ship's log for future reference."

"Thank you, Mr. Spock, I appreciate that evaluation. And I would also appreciate your moving so I may be able to see the forward viewing screen so that I might be able to make my own assessment. I feel that I should make a note in my captain's log, if that is alright with you. I just need to be able to observe better the nebula in question."

"Captain." Spock turned on his heel smartly, determined to make a better impression than he had of late, and stepped aside. "Is that better, sir?"

"Immeasurably," Kirk said with a tolerant grin. "As my granddaddy used to say when I was standing right in front of the television screen back on the farm, 'You make a better door than window, son.'"

Spock stiffened. Dereliction of duty! Displeasing his captain! Now it was not just him noticing his incompetence! Captain Kirk could see it, too!

"Relax, Mr. Spock. Stop looking like I'm going to order you shot. I'm not ready to put you in front of a firing squad. Not just yet, that is," he said with a slight chuckle in his voice. "I'll keep one on hand, though, in case I need them at a moment's notice. Never know when we might need one to open fire." Kirk looked around with a grin. "One thing for certain, though. They sure couldn't miss you in here, even if you took evasive measures for awhile."

Spock looked around, too. He had a vision of bullets zinging all over the Bridge if a firing squad opened fire in such a small, circular area. The carnage would be terrible. Hardly anyone would escape. And the victims would probably have wounds on their fronts, backs, and sides, and the story of the carnage on the Enterprise Bridge would be legendary in the annals of Federation lore. He frowned with his vision.

"You are not relaxing, Mr. Spock. In fact, you seem worse. Loosen up a little."

Spock made a visible effort to relax, but it was an unnatural gesture and made him look like a puppet that had been lain down in a heap. His limbs poked out at awkward angles as if some vital bones had been removed, but not others.

"That looks painful," Kirk commiserated with his own frown of sympathy.

"I am sorry, Captain. I do not know how to relax."

"I know you don't. Therefore, I am excusing you from duty for the day."

"But, Captain--"

"You obviously are suffering from a distraction of some sort. Inform Dr. McCoy that it is my recommendation that you be put under his personal observation for the rest of this shift. And if need be, that observation may need to be extended until such time that a diagnosis is reached."

"But, Captain--"

"And furthermore, I want a detailed report from him about your actions and an analysis of his impression of what you say."

Spock's heart thudded. McCoy was going to hate to have to do any of that!

Kirk grinned softly. "Don't look so worried. I'm having you do the same thing in regard to him. It won't be all one-sided."

Spock's heart thudded harder. To have to look at McCoy all he wanted! To have to hang onto his every word! To be with Dr. McCoy for hours! Spock could not have wished for a better outcome! Captain Kirk must be his fairy godmother!

"Well, Mr. Spock? You have your orders. Are you going to obey them?"

"Yes, sir!" Spock tried not to smile and tried not to hurry, but still his steps were swift as he rushed toward the turbo lift.

The turbo lift door closed on him, and the Bridge went back to the business of another quiet shift. Finally, Nyota Uhura turned ever so slightly from her radio, lifted an eyebrow ever so slightly at Kirk, and nodded ever so slightly at him.

Kirk smiled, waggled an eyebrow at her, then turned back to the front viewing screen. There was that damn nebula staring him in the face again. That damn nebula that he didn't care a single thing about! But he did care about Spock and McCoy and their relationship with each other which seemed to have been kicked up a notch! Something had stunned Spock right in front of everybody. With the way he was acting, he must have been hit dead-center by one of Cupid's arrows.

So the scuttlebutt was right! Spock, the invincible Vulcan, had the hots for McCoy! Well, they should be set up pretty well now. All they had to do was to take advantage of the situation they were going to be in shortly. Surely, even those two could get it figured out from there. And if not, then Kirk would just give them an another gentle push.

Or maybe one that was not so gentle. But push them, he would!

Otherwise, this Bridge was never going to get back to normal again!

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its storylines.


End file.
